


Nothing Hotter than a Cute Boy with a Giant Saw

by MagitekUnit05953234



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Admiring from Afar, Canon-Typical Violence, Chill XV, I guess it's technically pining but not really, M/M, One (1) thing that may seem sad, Pining, more like, what can I say y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 20:18:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16604810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagitekUnit05953234/pseuds/MagitekUnit05953234
Summary: Prompto is, as he would tell anyone who would listen during his ‘Guard training, not skilled at melee fighting in the slightest. He’s a distance fighter through and through—Which is why Gladio is shocked to see Prompto barrel past him into the thick of the fight one day, hooting and hollering with a massive imperial saw roaring in his grasp.





	Nothing Hotter than a Cute Boy with a Giant Saw

**Author's Note:**

> I should have an explanation but I just don't.

Prompto is, as he would tell anyone who would listen during his ‘Guard training, not skilled at melee fighting in the slightest. He has decent upper body strength and is quick on his feet, but he’s nervous and prone to clumsiness when attacked in close quarters. He struggles to lift swords bigger than rapiers —which don’t come naturally to him— and is skittish about using daggers despite decent skill at throwing them. He’s a distance fighter through and through—

Which is why Gladio is shocked to see Prompto barrel past him into the thick of the fight one day, hooting and hollering with a massive imperial saw roaring in his grasp. Gladio doesn’t move for a moment, his sword at his side, unable to do much more than marvel at this sudden turn of events. He knew that Prompto had called dibs on the circular saw when they recovered it from an imperial commander’s mech at Formouth Garrison, but Gladio didn’t think Prompto wanted it for anything more than an interest in the mechanics. Prompto does like to tinker with that sort of thing in his spare time.

Prompto is a veritable whirlwind of steel and whirring blade, cutting down axeman-type MTs as easily as Gladio would with his greatsword. It’s chaotic, it’s effective, it’s completely unexpected, and it’s almost beautiful in a weird sort of way. Prompto is swinging around that saw like he was made to do it, grinning fiercely, eyes alight with manic fervor.

By the time Gladio scrapes his brain off the walls of his skull and joins the fray, Prompto has single handedly taken down half the MT squad. As Ignis and Noctis take their usual places in the fight, Prompto drops back and switches his saw out for a revolver, effortlessly slipping right into his typical gunner role. 

“Nice going!” Gladio offers, genuinely, as Prompto delivers a solid shot to the magitek core of the MT they was approaching Noctis from behind, shutting it down in one go. 

“ _ Right _ ?” Prompto rushes around in Gladio's peripherals, setting up another shot by the looks of it. “Hey— on your left!”

The skirmish is quick work after that. 

“Aw man,” Noct groans from where he looking over the masses of dissolving armor. “One's still alive.”

Prompto scampers to Noct's side with all the enthusiasm of a puppy being called inside with the promise of a treat. He twirls his gun, dancing it over his fingers. “I got it.”

The MT, creaking and groaning in the grass, reaches a clawed hand up toward Prompto, who levels his weapon for a point-blank shot. 

“Creepy,” Prompto says. He pulls the trigger. 

The circular saw doesn't make an appearance in every battle, but it's common enough when a wave of weak axemen and swordsman drop from the sky. Sometimes, when Prompto bounds in with machinery swinging, he’s  _ whistling _ like it’s just another day on the road. 

Gladio can’t help but feel a little enthralled by the show of power, though he should probably tell Prompto to take this all a little more seriously. 

“How’m I doing?” Prompto asks once, right after he ends a battle by furiously bisecting an MT that almost got the jump on him. 

“Good,” Gladio smiles. "Real good.”

“Well,” Prompto blushes, dispels the saw, and rubs at the back of his neck. “I uh. I try my best, y'know?”

“It shows,” Gladio loops an arm around Prompto’s shoulders, drawing him close to his side. “You think you could handle a real sword since you've gotten strong enough to throw that monstrosity around?”

“Oh, don’t even start,” Prompto laughs, slapping Gladio’s ribs when Gladio jokingly grips him a little too tight. “My saw is  _ way _ lighter than anything you use, man. Lightweight metal. You’re got like…a big slab of steel with a handle.”

“I’ll get you one of these days,” Gladio promises. 

“ _Good_ _luck_!” 

Gladio is doomed. 


End file.
